Winters Song
by Lix
Summary: The thoughts of a Malfoy... Harry/ Draco SLASH


TITLE: Winters Song 

AUTHOR: Lix  
RATING: PG- 13 for slash (yep, two guys in love with each other)  
WARNINGS: Slash. Close your eyes if that scares you, folks.  
PAIRING: Harry/ Draco  
DISCLAIMER: You know what goes here right? I don't own, please don't sue.  
SUMMARY: Draco's thinking about how much life sucks, and Harry comes along… kinda inspired by the Chris Rea song of the same title, so listen to it… 

Some guy called Robert Evans said that 'Success means never having to admit that you're unhappy'. It compliments what I think is Malfoy Directive 4, which states that 'A Malfoy should show no emotion to any other person, in case it implies he is less than satisfied with his honoured state of being a Malfoy.' That is crudely put of course, as no one ever bothered to write down the Malfoy Directives, yet they are there all the same, unyielding as stone. I have not cried for many years, I don't think I even cried as a baby. Just lay there, arrogant and distinguished as a Malfoy should. I do not lose my temper very often, the times Potter has made me lose my temper merely go to show the extent to which the brat can get under my skin, the sole person who can. It is a talent even my father, with his curses and hexes and cane, cannot master. I do not even laugh any more. My father got too angry the last time I laughed at the Muggle comedian Alan Davies, now I cannot think of humour without wincing and feeling the strike of the rod across my shoulder blades. He hits where the bone is near the surface. I think he hopes to break my shoulders one day… 

I am unhappy every day of my life. Why should I not be? My father is a psychotic, sadistic bastard grovelling at the feet of an even more insane mass- murderer and would- be dictator. My mother is so distant I can rarely even remember her features, never mind things other children know as well as their own names… their mother's scent, the feel of her arms around you, the way she whispers in your ear when you'd had a bad dream. My mother never comforted me after a bad dream, and I have had a great many of them in my lifetime. I am to grow up as the heir to the Dark Lord, I should not be cosseted and indulged like an ordinary human being… 

There is one light in my dark, dark life, and however much you may laugh, that light is from the poster boy for light himself. Even I am not invulnerable to his charms. That innocence which radiates from him and makes him as regal, as perfect, as immaculate as a unicorn. The way his eyes shine so bright when he smiles. The way he speaks in soft, low murmurs when he is happy and so rarely raises his voice, unlike that boisterous, unruly Weasley friend of his. I know more about his life than he would like me to, having watched him for so long, and I realise it is probably due to the horrendous treatment he suffered at the hands of those Muggles that he is so quiet and almost lacking in confidence. I do not pity him; I have suffered myself as you know. But I would dearly love to make them pay for daring to harm something so precious. He is not only the Boy Who Lived, the saviour of the wizarding world, the one we expect even now to rescue us once more; he is the only person I know can pull me away from the darkness and into his eternal light. 

I am starting to shiver now, standing out in the grounds of Hogwarts staring at the stars. I was hoping it would rain tonight, there is nothing I love more than the rain, feeling it almost, almost wash away my sin and making my clean, like a soft hand touching me and making me pure; like Harry touching me… Malfoy's believe in no God but themselves, but I almost can say a psalm I found once on a piece of card hidden in the Malfoy attic and I pray to Harry… Harry… 

_I recognise my faults; _

_I am always conscious of my sins… _

_I have been evil from the day I was born, from the time I was conceived, I have been sinful… _

_Sincerity and truth are what you require; fill my mind with your wisdom. Remove my sin and I will be clean. Wash me and I will be whiter than snow… The sacrifice you want is a broken spirit, you will not reject a heart that is broken and sorry for it's sin. _

There is a quiet voice behind me and I jump in fear, but all it says is, "You should go in Malfoy, you're shivering, and your lips are almost blue." 

I look up at the figure before me. _Harry_… I star dumbly at him, and his expression is one of great concern. 

"Are you alright?" 

"Hmmm." I reply, wondering how he managed to persuade the moon to lie right behind his head and give him a white- gold halo. 

He holds out a hand, pulling me to my feet, and the palm that lies in his suddenly burns, I can almost see the flame of golden light lying between our joined skin. "Why did you come out here in just trousers and a t-shirt, it's winter for gods sake or haven't you noticed?" 

"Like you care, Potter." I mumble, my lips suddenly feeling numb as I realise he is right, it's freezing cold and I've been out here pondering my life for half an hour. 

"Do you feel the cold?" Harry asks softly. 

"Always. I'm never not cold. Even in the Great Hall on a summer day when everyone is complaining about the heat, I can feel the chill in my bones. I'm never going to be warm…" I don't think I even realise what I'm saying. 

"It's a cold life when you feel lonely, isn't it?" He says for some reason, touching my arm softly. 

He's wearing a big over- coat, one of those muggle things for winter when they have to make do in the cold without even the simplest heating spell, and he silently offers to let me share it. He wraps both it and himself around me as I suddenly find myself tight in his arms. Abruptly I can feel his warmth, his light seeping into my veins. I turn into his arms and snuggle close, blindly seeking that wonderful warmth. He gives surprised chuckle as I burrow into him, trying to get as close as I can to his skin. I must be insane, even now my mind is yelling at me, warning me that he's going to hurt me. Instead he slips a warm hand under my t-shirt and softly strokes my skin and I give a soft sigh into his collar bone. 

"What were you thinking about that was so important you had to freeze half to death to contemplate it?" he says softly, and I sigh once more at the wonderful feel of his body rumbling softly as he talks. 

"You're so warm… I'm always so cold… my whole life is cold… hate the cold… wanna be warm like you." 

He seems to realise I am talking on more than one level… "I can help… I want you to be warm. I don't like it when you are so cold. Let me make you warm." 

"Please." How many Malfoy rules am I breaking? Never let someone see you are unhappy, never let them inside you for they will only find your weaknesses and use them against you, never, never say please… You are a Malfoy, there is no-one (save the Dark Lord, of course) you should beg, for you are on a pedestal above all others. "please… Harry." 

He lifts my head gently, bringing his lips close to mine but not forcing anything, letting me be the one who moves the final distance to press skin upon skin. And the feel of his kiss… is like heaven is said to be. As magnificent as all of the World's wonders, as precious as the sunrise in the morning… and it cleans my soul better than rain ever did. In his arms, I can be new, fresh, clean… 

And in that overlarge overcoat, I am safe from the storm, my fingers and lips are no longer numb, I am warm. 

'My overcoat's empty, deep, wide and long, I got room for you darling till your winter is gone.' 

Note: for those who wish to know, the Psalm the extract is from is Psalm 51...


End file.
